


Ever Dream?

by Pearl_Pilots_In_Chains



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Al plays detective, Al the low-key matchmaker, Ed's too stubborn for his own good sometimes, F/M, Post-Canon, Soulmates, somewhat AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:34:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25289905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearl_Pilots_In_Chains/pseuds/Pearl_Pilots_In_Chains
Summary: “Welllll,” Alphonse began, narrowing his eyes, “Theory number one is that it has something to do with Winry—“Ed promptly choked.~~~Ed has a rather interesting dream, while Al happens to be reading a book about dreams.  Al develops a theory, and decides to do some 'investigating.'  And maybe get his brother to finally confess to a certain mechanic in the process.  Maybe.
Relationships: Edward Elric/Winry Rockbell
Comments: 8
Kudos: 41





	1. Castaway On a Lonely Day

**Author's Note:**

> As far as a timeline goes, this is set at some point in between the Promised Day and the epilogue of Brotherhood, during the two years Ed and Al spend back in Resembool.
> 
> I think this could be considered an AU to some extent, as far as the soulmates element goes, but it mostly complies with canonical events. Of course, it sets up some divergence from canon at the end. xD
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!
> 
> _____________________
> 
> "Ever felt away without me // My love, it lies so deep // Ever dream of me?" - Nightwish, "Ever Dream."

“Uuuugghhhhhhhhhh . . .”

The somnolent grunt that sank out into the dining room signaled the arrival of a certain golden-haired (and golden-eyed, for that matter) ‘menace’ to society.To be specific, it signaled the arrival of the shorter of the 'devastating duo' (as they had once been termed by a very irate Colonel Mustang, but that was a story for another time), generally considered to be the more dangerous of the two.The younger side of the duo, usually deemed the less destructive half (read: less likely to reduce entire buildings to rubble because he was ‘fighting crime’), was seated at the table, currently rather engrossed in the book before him.Nonetheless, Alphonse looked up, albeit with a healthy dose of reluctance, to witness his brother’s dramatic entry (though, in all fairness, was there anything about Edward Elric that wasn’t at least a bit dramatic?).

“Good morning brother!” Al greeted his older sibling, sliding naturally into a cheerful smile.Ed was having none of it.With the pomp of someone who wanted to ensure that everyone else in the general vicinity knew just how grumpy they were, Ed shambled crabbily over and lowered himself (or to be more accurate, dropped like the personification of an anvil) into the seat across from Alphonse.From there, he proceeded to adopt an expression that could only be termed a glower, though the intensity of it was offset considerably by the fact that he seemed to be having difficulty holding his eyelids above half-mast.The result was equivalent to be stared down by a anesthetized bull.One couldn’t be sure whether the bull was about to charge, or begin snoring.Al utilized a good bit of willpower to hold back the laughter the image conjured up.

“Yep, it’s mooorrniiing,” Ed groaned apathetically, stifling a yawn that made its escape halfway through the statement.The elongated “o” ended up turning into more of a “u” sound in the process.This only upped the ante for Al, adding further fuel to the bovine fire he had started with his earlier metaphor. _Maybe he’s secretly turning into a cow_ , Al mused humorously.Silently, of course.He didn’t want to risk igniting the ‘Fullmetal Dynamite’ (another reference to a very specific incident, one which Havoc still liked to bring up whenever he felt like he could get away with it, much to the chagrin of all present parties on said occasions).

Instead of saying something with the potential to unleash such explosive power, Al opted for something considerably more beneficial to his health.“You look you need coffee,” he opined amiably.

Ed glared back, no visible change reaching his face.Al wasn’t entirely sure if his brother had even processed the statement.All the same, he plowed forth with enthusiasm, as he was wont to do.“There’s still some in the pot,” he explained, gesturing over to the kitchen.This time, a look of comprehension dawned in Ed’s eyes.With a minimal nod in Al’s direction (all the recognition he was likely going to get, at least until the older Elric had considerably more caffeine in him), Ed pushed himself up from the chair.Moving with grace rivaled only by that of a lightweight drunkard (well no, perhaps that was giving the drunk an unfair shake; at least the drunk moved liked a human), he half-walked, half-slid into the kitchen.Al cringed slightly, but decided his brother probably wouldn’t accept help, even if it was offered.After all, it wasn’t like Al was the peak of physical dexterity himself.Though, with a small bubble of happiness floating up into his chest, he reflected on the fact that he wasn’t as far away from that as he had been even the previous month. 

Al glanced absentmindedly at the cane leaning against the table at his side.He rarely needed it anymore, only really using it when he was tired, such as later in the evening, or early in the morning when he was still waking up.There was a certain shock that came every day, when he woke to find himself in a real body.His real body.To call it an adjustment was a bit of an understatement.It was strange how something that had once literally been as familiar as his own flesh and blood could still feel so. . . odd at times.Nevertheless, he felt like he was making progress.Good progress.And that was what mattered.He smiled to himself.

The noise of ‘fiddling’ (a kind way to describe the assorted bangs and thuds that would have been cause for alarm if the source of them had been anyone other than Ed) in the kitchen brought Al back into the moment. He shot a glance in his brother’s direction.“There’s porridge on the stove,” he informed his brother.The older Elric didn’t turn from his task, which appeared to be pouring a downright terrifying amount of sugar into his mug, but he did give a lazy thumbs up.Al wasn’t entirely sure if Ed appreciated that coffee was not a confectionary beverage (a term which Al had, admittedly, made up, but one which he still thought was an entirely valid way to describe the ‘coffee’ that his brother drank).He was far too tempted to make a remark along the lines of, ‘Want some coffee with that sugar?,’ but managed to resist the call. _Well, at least I can convince him to eat real food with it.That’s something, right?_

A minute or so later, Ed had returned to his seat, his porridge in one hand, and his drink in the other.(Al refused to acknowledged it as coffee.Based on his rough hypothesis, it stood to reason that with the amount of sugary sludge in it, the consistency of the libation couldn’t be far off from the porridge.Nauseating, downright nauseating.)At first, he set about consuming the ‘meal,’ with little vigor, but he perked up considerably as he consumed more of the ‘caffeinated sugar-thing.’Al attempted to turn his attention back to his book, but quickly decided that was more an exercise in futility than anything else.Ed wasn’t what one would call a ‘quiet eater.’

Al regarded his brother thoughtfully.If Ed noticed, he gave no indication, merely plowing on through.Al decided that ‘plowing’ was one of those verbs that encapsulated his brother’s personality quite well, and resolved to use it the next time Winry and he discussed their mutual concerns regarding Ed.“Feeling better?”Al asked with a grin.

Ed looked up, pausing his battle with the porridge bowl (No, Al corrected himself, that wasn’t a bowl, it was the entire pot), and nodded.“Yep!” _Well, his voice finally sounds alive_ , Al mused.Without offering any further information, Ed turned his fury back to the food.

“So, what’s up?,” Al inquired, pressing for an actual response.

This time, Ed thought for a moment.After a few seconds, he shrugged.“Nothing important,” he replied, before plunging his spoon back into the pot with gusto.

Al cocked an eyebrow.“Riiiiight,” he drawled dubiously.

Ed shrugged again, without ceasing his consumption.

Al allowed the slightest sinister undertone to creep into his voice.“So, brother, am I going to need to start guessing?Because I have several theories.”

Ed paused again, about to take a sip of his caffeinated abomination.“Like what?”He proceeded to take the sip in question.This was a poor choice on his part.

“Welllll,” Alphonse began, narrowing his eyes, “Theory number one is that it has something to do with Winry—“

Ed promptly choked, gagging over the pot.His face was suddenly looking quite flushed. _Oh great.That’s just fantastic,_ Al thought, rolling his eyes in spite of himself.His brother didn’t seem to notice, too busy hiding his face behind the porridge pot.It was a plan doomed to failure from the start.

“Soooo,” Al continued, “I’m going to take a wild guess brother and say that I am one hundred percent corr—“

“Nope!Nope!Not at all Al!Not one bit!”Ed hastily threw up his hands, waving them manically, before gesturing wildly in the direction of the hall that led to the workshop.He rapidly mimicked a hand slicing over his throat. _You know, he could either be telling me to ‘shut up,’ or telling me that he’s afraid Winry will kill him if she hears us.I mean, one’s more likely than the other, sure, but the possibility is an entertaining one . . ._

Al rolled his eyes, this time making sure his brother saw it.“So, if it’s not connected to Winry, what is it then?”

Ed sighed, his hysterics coming to an abrupt stop.Scowling, he retrieved his spoon and ladled some more porridge toward his mouth.Before he shoveled the bite in, he muttered out, “Stupid dreams, that’s what.”

At this, Al’s humor died.He nodded slowly, looking at his brother with an expression that conveyed empathy.“Oh.That makes sense,” he remarked soberly.He thought he had a pretty good idea what Ed was talking about.They had both experienced their fair share of nightmares.Even if all of the inspirations for said nightmares were thankfully confined to the past.Some things didn’t leave willingly.

Ed shook his head firmly, as if he knew exactly where Al’s mind had gone.Which to be fair, he probably did.For all their differences, there were times when the Elric brothers had remarkably similar thought processes.“Not like that.”

Al’s brows furrowed together.“What do you mean?”

Ed waved his hand vaguely.“It wasn’t bad . . . just weird.”

This bit of information piqued Al’s interest.His eyes wandered down to the book at his fingertips, and his mind began to wander down a more intriguing road.“Weird how?,” he inquired.

Ed shrugged again, looking awkward.“Just . . . weird.Why do you care so much anyway?”

“Well, actually,” Al replied, “I’ve been reading a lot about dreams lately.”

Ed’s expression grew puzzled.“Really?”

Al shut the book he held and pushed it over so that Ed could see the cover, which proclaimed the title to be _Somnus Historia_ and the author to be one M.P. Phantasos.Ed picked up the tome and inspected it critically, before looking back to Al.“This is one of the ones you got when we we visited Central last, right?”

Al nodded, a smile returning to his face.“I got it from the last store we stopped at.”

“As in, the place that was more of a closet than an actual store?,” Ed queried.“The one where I waited outside with Winry because I didn’t think we could all fit.”

“The very same,” Al confirmed.“And I think we could have all fit.”

“No way,” Ed countered, handing the book back to Al.“So, what’s it about?”

Al noted that Ed had made sure to divert the conversation back to the earlier topic before Al could state his case regarding the size of the bookstore, but decided it wasn’t all that’s important.“It’s mostly theories about the purpose and powers of sleep, and, more specifically, dreaming,” Al answered, a degree of excitement in his voice.“The author either is or was, I’m not really sure which one, a philosopher of sorts. An Aerugonian one, actually.But he claims to have been inspired by Xerxian teachings.”

Ed didn’t look particularly impressed by this.“That sounds kind of dubious to me,” he opined dryly, reaching for his mug once more.

“I don’t know,” Al responded, tapping the cover of the book.“There’s some stuff in here that’s pretty fascinating.Even if the part about being inspired by Xerxian teachings is questionable.”

These comments only seemed to make Ed even more skeptical, his eyebrows, which had already begun their ascent, creeping a further increment up his forehead.“You actually believe the stuff in there Al?”

Al shrugged nonchalantly at this.“I wouldn’t necessarily say that I believe it brother.But it’s interesting to think about anyway.For example, there’s this one theory on sleepwalking in here that says—“

Ed held up a hand.“I think I’m good,” he remarked with a chuckle.

Al frowned briefly, more out of annoyance than actual anger at the interruption, but decided to spare his brother the entire explanation all the same.His frown transformed into a grin as he returned to his original pursuit. _Alright, if he doesn’t want me to talk, I’m happy to let him talk all he wants._ “Alright, fair enough brother.So, are you going to tell me about your dream?”

Ed shrugged evasively.“What makes you think I even remember it?”

“You’re acting like you do,” Al observed. 

Ed seemed to lack a good rejoinder to this observation.Instead, he went with a different deflection tactic.“Why are you so interested anyway?”

“Well, maybe I could help you shed some light on it,” Al replied.

Ed tilted his head, maximizing the amount of dubiousness he could convey.“What are you gonna do Al, interpret my dream for me?”

“Who knows?Maybe so,” Al answered with an amused smirk, tapping the book again.“Maybe it has the answers.”

Ed gave a grin that was almost as humorous as Al’s.“Yeah, I’m sure it does.Fine, fine.”

Al motioned for Ed to continue.

“Alright.So it went like this.I’m in this . . . let’s call it a square.But imagine some of the ones in Central.The big ones.Where they would have markets sometimes.”

Al nodded in understanding.

“It’s completely empty.The whole city around me seems dead.Absolutely no one there.Just me.And then, I hear this voice.It’s calling my name.But I can’t tell who it is.It’s off . . . like a bad radio broadcast.The kind where everything is too static-y to really tell what’s being said.Except, I know it’s my name.Over and over again.I can’t tell where it’s coming from either.It seems like it’s down all the streets.So I start trying to find it.I go running down the streets after it.Everywhere is just as dead as the square.But somehow, I wind up getting closer and closer.Finally, when I think I’m about to turn the corner and come face to face with whoever is calling me, I turn the corner and find myself right back in the empty square, with the voice just as far away as it was when I started.”

Al had leaned in closer as Ed continued speaking, drawn in by the recollection, and now had a look of concern on his face.Ed carried on, however, his gaze drifting off to look at one of the nearby walls, as if doing so would help him visualize the dreamscape.

“So I follow the voice down another one of the streets, and the same thing happens.And then another.Same thing.And another, and you get the idea.”

Al nodded again, remaining silent.

“And so finally, I give up, and I sit myself down in the middle of the square, right along the edge of this fountain.All of the sudden, the voice starts getting closer on its own.I start looking around, but I still can’t tell where it’s coming from.It’s everywhere simultaneously.It keeps getting louder, drawing near.Without warning, it’s right behind me.And I know that whoever’s been calling me is there.Nowhere else.Just right there.And so I turn around, but for some reason, my eyes are bound to the ground.All I can see are the shoes this person is wearing.And they don’t really tell me anything, ‘cause they’re boots.I mean, half the people we know wear boots!”

Al gave another nod, acknowledging that Ed did have a fair point, even if he was exaggerating the number of boot-wearing individuals among their acquaintances a bit.

“I finally manage to lift my head up,” Ed continued, “But I’m so.Incredibly.Slow.I feel like I can hardly move.And the other person just stands there through all of it.And here’s the problem.Even as I see more and more of them, I still have no idea who it is!Everything is so generic, so basic, so formless, that I can’t tell anything.It could be practically anyone.They’re wearing this jacket that hides everything.It just sort of hangs around them, like a shield.Or a cloak.Something like that.”Ed waved his hand ambiguously in the air, as if the gesture solidified his point.It didn’t, but Al already had a good enough idea of what his brother meant that he didn’t want to comment. _Not to mention, I want to actually hear how it ended.Better not do anything that could possibly distract him._ A very curious idea had begun creeping up on Al as Ed related the nature of his dream, and Al was eager to see how the conclusion of said dreamed played into the possibilities his mind was investigating.

Fortunately, it seemed that Ed had no intention of stopping until the story was complete.“And then, and this is the best part.Trust me.I finally manage to raise my head high enough that I’m about to see their face, and then . . .,”Ed paused for dramatic effect, accompanying it with a sigh through his nostrils that sounded more like a snort (and not a pleased one at that).Al briefly wondered when Ed’s delivery had become so . . . theatrical?He didn’t have long to consider the answer however.“And then, I woke up,” Ed finished, tossing his hands up in irritation.

Al blinked, momentarily absorbing and analyzing this piece of information.He found that he wasn’t all that surprised by it.In fact, it made the possibilities his mind was investigating all the more intriguing.At the same time, he decided sharing that information with his older sibling might not go over excellently.Instead, he echoed Ed’s earlier opinion.“That does sound pretty weird.”

“You can say that again,” Ed concurred emphatically.“And all of that was weird, but you know what the weirdest part was?”

Al shook his head, doing his best to make the action appear sincere. _In my defense, I don’t know exactly what he might think the weirdest part is.I just have a hunch.Yeah, a hunch._

“The weirdest part was how real it felt.It was as if I was actually there.Like it was all actually happening.As if Central suddenly became a ghost town, and I wound up wandering through it.It was uncanny.” 

Ed grimaced, looking none too pleased with the hypothetical situation he was describing.On one hand, Al couldn’t help but sympathize with him.The scenario Ed had constructed sounded unsettling at best, and downright disturbing at worst.At the same time, Al’s mind was now having a field day of sorts.In a good way.He decided today was a good day for some detective work.

“So,” Ed said, finishing off the last of his ‘breakfast’ (that being what remained of his ‘coffee-inspired concoction,’ the name which Al decided to settle on for the culinary transgression), “What does it all mean Al?”He adopted a cynical expression, a mildly mocking tilt to his voice.“Are you going to read me my fortune out of the book now?”He beamed widely, clearly considering the volume in question to not be worth serious consideration.Al didn’t completely agree, but he could appreciate his brother’s perspective.After all they had been through, skepticism (not to mention sarcasm), weren’t exactly unimaginable sentiments.

“Well brother,” Al stated matter-of-factly, “I’d say your guess is as good as mine really.”

Ed rolled his eyes, chuckling, appearing rather pleased that Al hadn’t tried to offer some sort of interpretation.“Doesn’t your ‘dream guidebook’ have any advice?”He poked playfully, pointing at the tome in question.

“Not that comes to mind off the top of my head.I could do some further research though.”Al raised a hand to imitate a stereotypical ‘scholar’ stroking his beard (or in Al’s case, the few bits of stubble which had emerged since the last time he’d shaved).Truthfully, the gesture was meant to conceal the knowing smile that threatened to blossom onto his face.It wouldn’t do for his brother to spot that. _Not one bit._

“More power to you Al,” Ed responded with a grin that indicated he highly doubted any research was going to be done. _If only he knew how wrong he is.The game’s afoot, brother!_


	2. My Song Can But Borrow Your Grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Al's 'investigations' continue. His first lead? A girl by the name of Rockbell. Winry Rockbell. But what will this daring detective discover? *Cheesy noir music intensifies*
> 
> In other words, Al asks Winry some questions.

Al cracked the workshop door surreptitiously, peering through the gap at the sole inhabitant, who fortunately seemed to be engrossed in her work and oblivious to his imminent intrusion.Disturbing Winry while she was working was not the wisest idea regardless of one’s identity, but Al thought that all things considered, the odds were (relatively) in his favor.Especially if he played up the convalescent factor.Though to be fair, said factor was becoming less and less applicable as time passed.Still, in situations such as this one, it could prove to be somewhat useful.And Al fully intended to take advantage of that fact.

Ed had departed for the afternoon, going into town with Granny to buy some basic goods (such as sugar, given that Ed had seriously depleted their supply, thanks to his ‘sweetened caffeine’ habit).Ed was serving as the designated beast of burden for the goods being bought on said trip.Al found a certain sort of poetic justice in this (especially considering how much Ed made a show of complaining about his role, even if he willingly went along with it in the end).Al also saw an opportunity in this situation.It was his chance to talk to Winry while his brother was absent, and do a little bit of that classic ‘Alphonse Elric: Private Eye.’He blamed his newfound love of mysteries and related topics on Mustang, who had introduced him to series of detective novels during their shared time at the hospital in Central.Who would have thought that the Colonel (well, now General) read pulpy crime fiction in his spare time? _Let’s be honest though . . . was I really all that surprised?In a way, it made sense . . ._

Al glanced down at the glass in his hand, a prop of sorts for his plan, and then carefully closed the door once more.Raising his free fist, he knocked firmly on the door.“What is it?,” Winry called out, not sounding particularly disgruntled by the interruption, which Al took as an auspicious omen.

“It’s Alphonse,” he replied, and then added, “I brought you a drink,” considering the question had been ‘what?’ rather than ‘who?’

“Oh.”Winry sounded a bit surprised.Generally, if someone interrupted her, it was Ed (Pinako obviously didn’t count, because she also worked in the workshop), owing to the fact that Al was the more respectful of the two when it came to people’s work, not to mention the brother with (much) more patience.Al heard the sound of a chair scrape, and then footsteps approaching the door.He grinned, but quickly wiped the expression off his face as the door opened and Winry looked out at him skeptically.He offered the glass of water to her.“Here.I figured you might be thirsty.Since you’ve been working all afternoon,” he offered as an explanation.

She blinked, briefly bemused, but accepted the drink.“Thanks Alphonse,” she said with a genuine smile, before turning back for her workbench without further conversation. 

“No problem,” Al replied, slipping slightly into the room through the now-opened door.He had to admire her focus.Once she was in the middle of something important (like a project for a client), she kept her attention.He felt slightly guilty for disrupting that attention, but he also wasn’t about to let a potential ‘lead’ slip by. _Well, my main ‘lead,’ really.The one that might just crack this case wide, wide open.The smoking gun, if you will.Err, smoking automail?Say, that’s not a bad idea for a story . . . Hmmm . . . Okay, stay focused here.It’s interrogation time.Subtle interrogation time.Emphasis on the subtle._

“So, how’s the project going?” Al inquired casually from his spot by the door.

Winry, who had already reclaimed her seat at the bench, shot a quick glance back in his direction, looking as though she hadn’t expected him to still be there.“Actually,” she began, her momentary confusion rapidly falling away, “It’s going pretty well.I think I might actually get it done early.It wasn’t as hard of a repair job as we initially thought it would be.The client made it sounded as though there was some serious damage to a couple of the digits, but it was really just some standard wear.We were able to salvage the basic structure.It was only some of the shell that had to go.”Winry might not have been the most talkative person Al knew, but she was more than happy to go into detail about her craft.

“That’s great,” Alphonse remarked cheerily.

“Yeah,” Winry agreed with a nod, following it up with a drink.

 _Time to take a bit of a risk now_.“So, how’s your day been Winry?”

She tilted her head slightly, processing the question quizzically.“It’s been fine,” she supplied after a couple seconds, shrugging.“Just a normal day.How’s yours been Al?”She returned, raising a mildly dubious eyebrow.

“Oh, mine’s been fine,” Al replied promptly, with a relaxed shrug of his own. _Now I up the stakes._ Doing his best to sound somewhat sheepish, he continued, “Sorry for prying.It’s just that you seemed a little tired at breakfast this morning.”The observation wasn’t necessarily untrue, though Winry had handled being ‘a little tired’ considerably better than Edward had an hour or so later. _Although, to be fair to brother, part of why she handled it so much better than he did was because he wasn’t there to provoke her.Then again, I’m not sure that really reflects particularly well on him, all things considered. . ._

Winry’s eyebrow crept higher.“I did?”Al wasn’t sure whether she was questioning whether or not she had in fact looked tired earlier in the day, or if she was questioning the nerve he had for bringing it up. _I mean, I can understand either one.Usually, telling someone they looked tired is tantamount to saying they looked bad . . . and if my brother was the one saying it, that’d probably be what he was implying . . . and he’d probably be dodging a wrench right about now.Yeah . . . it’s a good thing he’s shopping._

“Just a little bit,” Al amended, trying to seem agreeable, and not the rude idiot he thought he was likely coming across as (perhaps an exaggeration on his part, but not entirely devoid of truth either).“Did you sleep okay?”

Winry now looked downright incredulous.“Did I sleep okay?,” she echoed Alphonse’s question, before following it with one of her own.“Al, why are you asking me about how I slept?”

Al raised his palms apologetically, adding in a pleasant chuckle (though one carefully balanced so as not to sound overly nervous) for effect.“I don’t know . . . I guess I just worry too much,” he answered, hoping that his acting skills were holding up. _Time to pull out my next ace.I got sleeves full of ‘em.Imagine I bought roughly six decks of cards and stripped the aces from all of them.That’s how many aces I have up my sleeves.It’s getting a bit hard to keep them from sliding out all at once, actually.Never mind, this metaphor’s falling apart.Maybe I can’t play the smooth inspector role all the way._ “I mean, you’re basically my sister.I just want to make sure you’re doing okay.” 

Al had classified this statement as an ‘ace’ for two reasons.One: it didn’t require him to act at all.It was actually true, as was the sentiment that went with it.Al had come to think of Winry as his sister, regardless of the lack of a blood relation between them (he had learned that bonds came in many, many forms), and he really did care about her wellbeing.Two: it had what was in his mind a high chance of actually improving her mood, at least to some extent.While he did feel a little guilty over the fact that he was in essence manipulating her, he countered this with the arguments that he was telling truth, and that the overall goal in his ‘investigation,’ related to her wellbeing just as much as it did to his brother’s.

Al’s classification turned out to be correct.Winry rolled her eyes, but the remark seemed to improve her mood, as evidenced by the fact that she didn’t immediately snap at him after he said it (not that she snapped at Al much, if at all.Her ire was almost solely reserved for Ed, for reasons Al was beginning to think he understood more and more as time went by).“Fine,” she said after a couple more moments, waving a gloved hand.“I guess I didn’t sleep great.But I’ll be fine.Trust me, you don’t need to worry Al.”She gave him a smile that looked fairly confident.

Al nodded, smiling as well.“Okay.I’ll take your word for it.”

Winry nodded back and turned once more toward her project, setting her now mostly-empty glass in a spot on a lower shelf of the bench.

“I just know I’ve been having some weird dreams lately, and I wondered if anyone else was too.”

Winry abruptly snapped back to stare at Al intently.“Weird dreams?”She asked carefully, doing her best to sound casual.Had Al not been expecting her interest to be drawn, he probably wouldn’t have given it a second thought.As it was, it was practically a confession. _Well, I think my suspicions were more than just suspicions.This is really shaping up to be a most fascinating case, no doubt about that._

“Very vivid ones,” he explained, playing innocent.

“Vivid how?”Winry asked again, trying and failing to sound only minimally interested.

“They’re almost lifelike,” Al answered.“It feels like they’re really happening.It’s almost unnerving, actually.”

Winry’s interest was now clearly written on her face.“You know Al,” she began, choosing her words with intentionality, “I think I might know what you mean.”

“Really?”He was riding the charade of innocence as far as it would take him.

“Yeah,” she confirmed, looking reflective.“I think I had a dream like that last night.”

“What was it about?”Al inquired, doing his best not to sound overly eager.

“Well,” Winry started, before pausing once more, apparently weighing whether or not to tell Al about her dream.At last, she began again with, “I was in a square.Like the kind in a town like East City—“

Al’s mind lit up as soon as he heard the words, though he focused on keeping his external facade calm. _How’s that for cracking this mystery wide open!This might just be an open and shut case!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading everyone! If you're enjoying this little dip into Al's 'detective work,' please feel free to leave a comment! I always appreciate the feedback!


	3. Entwined In Finding You One Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Al's dubious client be able to survive the thrilling conclusion to the case?! *Dramatic climax to noir music*
> 
> Al tries to freak his brother out. But he's totally not mischievous. He's just drawn that way (err, written?).
> 
> Ft. some borrowing from Greek mythology.

Al caught his brother after the elder Elric had finished unloading and storing the purchases from the trip into town (after all, far be it from Al to come between his brother and manual labor).He nodded in the direction of the kitchen table as Pinako disappeared upstairs.Winry was still sequestered in the workshop.Al had a plan to start working on dinner relatively soon (cooking was one of the households tasks to which he had started insisting on contributing, primarily because it was something he possessed both the capability and the desire to do).He decided he didn’t have too much time to spend on his ‘big reveal,’ but he was determined to share his findings, such as they were, with his brother before anything could possibly spoil the opportunity.Which meant that time was of the essence anyway.After all, given the conversation he had had with Winry earlier in the afternoon, he knew he was working on a limited time table, before Winry took matters into her own hands and had a certain conversation with Ed.He had been quite surprised (in an altogether positive way) to find that she had been more receptive to some of his theories than he had expected her to be.Winry generally wasn’t the type to put any serious faith in vague, pseudo-scientific, somewhat-supernatural sounding philosophies from mysterious sources, unless there was some sort of harder evidence to back them up.But in this case . . . he guessed that there was?Sort of. _Do dreams count as hard evidence?_ Still, he hadn’t been all that far from flabbergasted when she actually agreed to hear him out, and then didn’t immediately dismiss everything he said as rambling madness when he finished. _Maybe she actually thinks that I only take things seriously when I believe they’re worth seriously.Which I suppose is a bit unlike certain other people, who seem like they prefer to overdramatize everything.Not that it’s all bad or anything.But I can see why she would find it a bit . . . uhh . . . well . . . tiring?_

Al wasn’t entirely sure how Ed was going to react to Al’s revelation.On one hand, Ed would probably gripe and rant about how Al’s theory was ridiculous.At the same time though, after his bluster passed, Al thought Ed might actually consider it.He’d at least want to read the passages for himself, if nothing else. _Just so he can prove they’re absolutely nonsense himself, of course.At least, that’s probably what he’ll say._

When Al first motioned toward the table, Ed stared at him at him, perplexed.“I did some research,” Al announced cooly.“Thought you might want to see what I found out.”

From all visible indications, this only heightened Ed’s puzzlement.“Research?”He queried uncertainly.

“About your dream, brother,” Al clarified, holding up _Somnus Historia._

Ed’s bewilderment changed to incredulity.“Wait, are you serious Al?”

Al nodded.“One hundred percent.”

“Alrriiiight.”Ed pursed his lips, not looking terribly enthused by the confirmation.Nonetheless, he followed Al over to the table.“Soooo, what’d you discover?Any great revelations?”

“Weelllll,” Al grinned, dragging out the word for the pure sport of it. _Suspense is a dish best served for as long as possible.And that’s not even from a novel.That’s all mine.Which is why it sounds . . . terrible.Okay, so one liners aren’t my strength either. Add it to the list alongside trite conceits._

Ed rolled his hand around, indicating that Al should hurry up.

“Okay,” Al acquiesced.“Do you know what soulmates are?”

Ed’s brows curled in doubtfully.“Soulmates?”His tone didn’t indicate familiarity.

“It’s an idea from ancient Aerugonian religious texts.”

“Ancient Aerugonian religious texts?What does that have to do with anything Al?”

“I’m getting to it brother,” Al answered, with just a tad bit of exasperation.

Ed shrugged.“Alright.Just wondering.”

Al rolled his eyes before continuing, “According to these texts, humans originally had double every limb, as well as two heads.”

Ed blinked, “Did not see that coming . . .”

Al glared back at his brother.“Anyway, humans at that time were essentially twice what they are today.”

Ed nodded slowly, before querying, as cheekily as possible, “So, when did we finally leave all the other quadrupeds in the dust?”

Al had to fight back the sudden urge to roll his eyes again.“Well, accordingly to the texts, the gods, who were afraid of the power humans could wield, decided to split humans into two parts.”

Ed tilted his head.“So their solution to humans getting too powerful was to double the number of humans?”

“Right.”

“Because that makes lots of sense.”

“It’s how the story goes,” Al countered. _Not my best defense, but we need to keep this moving, otherwise I’ll run out of time._

“Something tells me these gods weren’t known for their logic.I mean, rationally, how would splitting people in half make them less powerful?The sum of arms and legs and such still remains the same, but now there are even more humans.Not to mention the increases in mobility that would have come with autonomy, the—“

“Brother,” Al interrupted before Ed could launch into a full-blown tangent, “The point is that they split them in half.It’s a myth, okay?Don’t overanalyze it too terribly much.”

“Alright, whatever, whatever.So they split them in half.Sounds painful.A bit on the gory side too.I mean, what type of method are we talking about here, because—“

“Brother!”

Ed stifled his laughter.“Oh, fine.What happened next?”

“Well, to cut a long story short, because otherwise we’ll never finish it—“ Al glared at his elder sibling —“Ever since then, humans have been destined to search for the person who was once the other half of their body.Together, those two people are soulmates.Accordingly to the story, humans can only find true happiness by finding their soulmate.No one else will ever be able to make them genuinely happy.”

Ed looked somewhat skeptical (this was the understatement of the month).“Well, that’s wonderfully happy, huh Al?Also, there are so many issues with that story that I don’t know where to begin.”

Al shrugged.“I’m just telling it for context.Since you didn’t know what a soulmate was.Really, you have only yourself to blame.”Al made sure to throw a dash of snark into the final statement.Just a dash though.

“Well, I get the picture now.Soulmate equals true happiness, everyone else is just filler.That about sum it up?”

“I never said the story had the best point.”

“You can say that again,” Ed opined sarcastically.

“I’d rather not brother.”

“So Al, what’s the point with the whole soulmates concept?”

Al lifted opened up the book to a marked page, tapping once it was open.“Phantasos talks a lot about how soulmates relate to dreaming in this chapter.”He reversed it and slid it over to Ed, who looked at the beginning of said chapter with disinterest.

“You know, I’d say I just lost respect for the guy, but that would imply I respected him in the first place.And I am many things, but I am not a liar.”

Al gave a neutral shrug.“As I said earlier brother, I can’t say that I believe a lot of the stuff that he says.But I do think some of it is pretty interesting.It’s fun to think about, at least.”

“I’ll trust you on that,” Ed intoned satirically, pushing the book back over to Al.

“Your choice,” Al replied.“But brother, I think you’d find at least one part pretty intriguing.”He flipped a few pages, before landing on the one for which he was looking.“It talks about soulmates sharing dreams.”

“As in, they go visit each other in their dreams or something?”Ed asked scoffingly.

“No, not really.More along the lines of, they have identical dreams certain nights.According to Phantasos, those dreams are usually particularly lifelike.”Al ran a finger down the page, searching for the quote he had in mind.He found it in short order.“In his own words, ‘these particular dreams bear striking resemblance to that which might occur in the waking life, to the extent that they might be mistaken for the actual conscious activities of the partaking individuals.’”

Ed’s expression was beginning to shift back from cynical to confounded.“Al, what exactly are you getting at?”

“Well brother,” Al remarked with exaggerated mirth, “You did say that your dream last night was especially life-like.As if it was real.”

“So, based on that alone, you think that I was sharing a dream with my soulmate, or something equally absurd?”

“Not based on that alone,” Al returned suggestively.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that I have some more evidence as well brother,” Al replied with a cheshire grin.

In response to this, Ed crossed his arms testily and put on his best stoic stare.“Oh really?Like what?”

Al wasn’t put off by his brother’s stubbornness.“Well, since you asked brother, I suppose it’s only fair for me to tell you." He paused, purely for dramatic effect, of course. Ed's glare was not indicative of patience. Al took a deep, overstated breath, and continued, "You weren’t the only one who dreamed of wandering through an empty city square last night, searching for a voice you couldn’t identify.Someone else had a dream identical to yours.”

Ed looked downright bewildered by this, his stoicism quickly dissolving.“Wait, what?Who?What are you taking about?”

“Well brother, a certain someone else told me about a dream just like yours.Also, you left out the fact that the fountain in the square was dry.There was no water running in it.”

Ed froze for an instant.“Huh.Yeah, now that I think about it— Wait!How did you know that?”

“Well, like I said brother—“

Ed threw up a hand, “You probably just guessed.I mean, there’s a fifty-fifty chance with something like that—“

“The spout on the fountain was carved into the shape of an automail fist.”

This time, Ed stopped altogether, falling utterly speechless for a good ten seconds (which, by Edward Elric standards, was quite a long while).His face was quickly getting flushed.“Al, seriously, how did you . . .?” He fumbled helplessly for words, his vocabulary malfunctioning.

“Different people place different levels of emphasis on things, even when it’s something in a dream,” Al offered sagely (read: sounding like a pompous 'academic,' just for his brother's benefit).“Especially when they’re explaining something to someone else.What you thought was important wasn’t exactly the same as what she thought was important.”

Ed was now most definitely blushing, as his mind started putting two and two together. As it would happen, four was apparently a very dangerous number.“You mean that, that,” he spluttered, caught somewhere between indignant and embarrassed.The line between the two emotions tended to blur for Ed when it came to a certain girl.

Al nodded.“Winry had the exact same dream as you.”

Ed looked dangerously close to exploding (and if such a feat were possible for a human to accomplish, Ed probably had a far better shot at it than most people, if his previous exploits were anything to go on). Gesticulating wildly, he vociferated with equal vigor, “Well, come on, it’s all just ridiculous!It’s total nonsense Al!You can’t seriously believe in any of it!I mean, it’s crazy!I don’t need to waste time on this!”Abruptly, he all but leapt out of his chair, striding toward the stairs.“I have . . . stuff . . . to take care of!”He declared clumsily as he made his way around the table.

Al reached out a hand with the book in it, the page he had quoted from marked once more.“Want to read it for yourself?”He asked calmly.

“No way!”Ed declared firmly as he marched passed, snatching the book from Al’s hand with just enough care to ensure that it wasn’t damaged in the process.

As Ed disappeared out of the room, Al grinned to himself. _You know, I really hope he’s a bit more tactful than that whenever he finally talks to Winry.I’d hate for her to break one of her wrenches on his hard head._

Without warning, the door to the workshop down the hall, which had been left just a bit ajar (about enough to hear the louder parts of the conversation), slid the rest of the way open, and the individual in question emerged.“So, how’d it go?”She asked offhandedly as she strolled into the dining room, a rare grin on her face.He got the instinct impression she already had an idea of how it went herself.

“Well, he took the book,” Al responded.

Winry merely let out a short laugh in return.Al couldn’t help but laugh as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading everyone!
> 
> A quick note: this fic was initially just two chapters, but I rewrote a couple bits of dialogue in the last conversation, and while I was reading through it to see how that fit, I decided I wanted to split it up a bit more, since there really are three distinct parts.


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